


The Dynamos

by Quecksilver_Eyes



Category: Mamma Mia! (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, brief Bill Anderson/Donna Sheridan, in which the dynamos simply live, rosie is a strong gal, tanya is jealous, with each other and with their lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 19:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15825159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quecksilver_Eyes/pseuds/Quecksilver_Eyes
Summary: „My point is“, says Rosie and wipes her mouth, „that I want to marry him and have lots of babies and one day I want to push around his wheelchair and scatter his ashes.”Tanya spits her wine back into her glass and across the room, Donna touches the boy’s arm and laughs, her head thrown back, her neck a soft line. Tanya clears her throat. “Ah”, she says. Rosie puts down her bottle and leans back. The boy touches Donna, now, his tanned skin dark against hers, his body angled towards her and Tanya thinks of the architect, of the breathlessness in Donna’s voice when she called them, not even a week ago, Rosie’s hand against the small of Tanya’s back as they both pressed their ears against the receiver.





	The Dynamos

„My point is“, says Rosie and wipes her mouth, „that I want to marry him and have lots of babies and one day I want to push around his wheelchair and scatter his ashes.”

Tanya spits her wine back into her glass and across the room, Donna touches the boy’s arm and laughs, her head thrown back, her neck a soft line. Tanya clears her throat. “Ah”, she says. Rosie puts down her bottle and leans back. The boy touches Donna, now, his tanned skin dark against hers, his body angled towards her and Tanya thinks of the architect, of the breathlessness in Donna’s voice when she called them, not even a week ago, Rosie’s hand against the small of Tanya’s back as they both pressed their ears against the receiver.

“You have to come here”, she’d said. “The island is a dream.”

Rosie had giggled into Tanya’s neck and Tanya had smirked, had imagined Donna, with her hair wild, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving. “Did you run?”, she’d asked instead and Donna had laughed.

“You have to meet Sam.” There’d been the rustle of fabric, the worn voice of a woman and Donna’s giggle. “He’s amazing.”

Tanya had pulled up a chair and Rosie into her lap. “Alright then, tell us.”

Now, Donna’s eyes are rimmed red, and the boy with his hands all over her is not Sam. Tanya wipes the lipstick stains off her wine glass. (Scarlet, like the blush high on Donna’s cheeks, the flush to Rosie’s skin.) Rosie is still talking, her voice pitched high like it last was just weeks before graduation, her graded paper scattered on the floor. “It’s unfair”, she says and Tanya clicks her tongue, thinks of Donna flying off to Paris with a flip of her hat, a kiss to their cheeks. She hums.

“He’s making her feel better”, she says and Rosie scoffs. Tanya wishes she was still flushed from the performance, that there was still blood rising high in her cheeks. Instead, Rosie nurses a beer while Tanya contemplates her wine and wishes the rough tanned hands on Donna’s legs were theirs.

*

When Donna comes back, her performance outfit draped over her shoulders, she pulls a chair out for Rosie and kisses Tanya’s cheek. “Thank you”, she says and Tanya pours her a glass.

“Was it fun?”, she says and hands Donna the glass.

Donna laughs and spins. “Yes”, she says. “It really was.”

Tanya smiles and Donna hugs Rosie, puts her head on her left shoulder. “What did you two do? Did you go to the market?”

Rosie nods. “We met a hot guy there”, she says and reaches for the wine leaves on Tanya’s plate. “He blew Tanya off.”

Donna lifts her head and looks at Tanya. “Really?” Her curls lie on Rosie’s shoulder now, her arms still slung around her waist, and Tanya rolls her eyes.

“Yes”, she says and pats the chair beside her. “I had to get rebuffed at some point.”

Donna sits down, but doesn’t let go of Rosie’s waist. “I guess so.” She runs a hand through her curls. “Do you two wanna sing something?”

Rosie swallows. “Sing?”, she asks just as Tanya says, “But there’s no one here, Donna.”

Donna leans back and closes her eyes. “Not as a performance.” She gets up and walks towards the stage, her back muscles moving under her skin. “Just for us.” Tanya thinks of the last time they sang without rehearsing or an intent to show the world, of soft words and flushed skin, of Donna’s laugh and Rosie’s eyes, lying in their shared apartment, clothes and diplomas scattered on the floor.

Donna smiles at them now, her mouth still kiss swollen, her hair open and wild on her shoulders. “Pick a song, Tanya”, she says and her voice dips. Her chest rises and sinks slowly as she breathes, her necklace resting heavy on her sternum.

Tanya puts her glass down and sighs. “Give me that microphone.” Rosie cheers.

*

The ferry is so full that only Rosie has found a place to sit, in between two fishermen who smell exactly like their trade. “Take your shoes off”, she says as she peeks into the basket on her right. Tanya frowns and taps her heels against the floor. “I’m fine”, she says. Rosie shrugs.

Donna greets them, her hand resting on her swelling stomach, her hair in a messy knot and suddenly, Tanya’s feet hurt. Rosie next to her drops her bags and runs towards Donna with a shriek. Tanya takes her shoes off first. When they hug, a tumble of hands and skin, Donna’s stomach pressing against them, her hair brushing Tanya’s shoulder, Tanya kisses the top of her head. Rosie laughs.

“Come on.” Tanya picks up her shoes. “Let’s get the pregnant lady to sit down. Wouldn’t want you breaking your water.” Donna swats her arm and shrieks as Rosie picks her up.

“Still in the farm house, right?”, she asks. Donna laughs all the way up the hill, her hands in Rosie’s hair, her head thrown back. Tanya doesn’t put her shoes back on.

Donna’s lips are soft against hers, her hair still in the knot, her dungarees half undone, pooling at her hips. Her cheeks are flushed, Tanya’s lipstick smeared on her clavicles, her chest, her stomach.

“You two couldn’t wait for me, huh?” Rosie pulls her shirt off and laughs as Tanya pulls her towards the mattress on the floor. “Blame Donna”, she says and kisses her neck. “Come here.”

*

“Auntie Rosie!”, Sophie calls from the balcony, her cheeks red, her smile blinding.

“Oh my god”, Tanya says and grabs Donna’s arm. “She’s gotten even more beautiful!” Donna laughs and nods, her eyes soft. _She’ll make a beautiful bride_ , Tanya thinks as she watches her fall into Rosie’s arms, a flurry of blonde locks and sun tan skin, her mother’s laugh tumbling out of her mouth.

What a wonderful child.


End file.
